


The Moonshiners

by macandcaseus



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic), The Moonlighters
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Gold Rush AU, Prohibition AU, i really have nothing to say to justify this, might add chapters... dont hold your breath, yeah gold rush & prohibition took place decades apart what of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macandcaseus/pseuds/macandcaseus
Summary: In the middle of the...oh no *checks notes*..... ohhh no, the timeline got all messed up..... eh, no one'll noticeambiguously gold rush/prohibition era, two determined prospectors stumble upon each other - and the find of a lifetime - in the just-as-ambiguous-as-the-era American wilderness. Can they find a middle ground to stand on as they each go for the gold?
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	The Moonshiners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiddayGiggle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddayGiggle/gifts).



> My professors: Mac, do your homework  
> Me: ... nah, I'll write a fanfic of a fanfic instead

Kieran trudged through the underbrush, careful to preserve as much of the scenery as possible, only hacking at the densest of bushes and branches in his way. Sweat dripped down his face, and he stopped to wipe it away and check the compass in his hand.  _ It’s gotta be close by now. _

At last, more sunlight dappled the ground before him as he approached the edge of the forest. His resolve strengthened and he picked up his pace, finally stumbling out of the trees to see a stretch of open land, lush green grass dipping into a valley, where a clear, sparkling stream drifted through the earth. He held his breath, closing his eyes to listen to the gentle babbling and the birds harmonizing all around.

He gave his knapsack a pat, his pan serving as a muted tambourine beneath the burlap.

If the stories the other prospectors told were true, and if he had followed their directions correctly (assuming they had given him the correct directions at all), this stream was supposedly a literal goldmine. And he was here to claim all that it had to offer him.

He made his way down the sloping hill, letting his eyes wander over the space stretching before him. Other gentle hills gave shape to the valley, but he had his eye set on one in particular – a hill that cast a shadow while the sun was at its peak, where he would set up camp and rest during the hottest hours of the day in between panning during the morning and the evening. But for now, he would wait to set up his camp. He wanted to dip his hands in that stream, to feel that cool water and introduce himself to the minerals that would make him a rich man.

Too focused on searching for the perfect spot to crouch over the stream, Kieran didn’t even realize when a figure rounded one of the hills, pan full of sediment in hand. She had been there alone long enough to almost forget the existence of other people, let alone expect someone else to show up at  _ her _ stream. So they collided, the pan tipping out of her hands and spilling its contents over Kieran’s shirt, and their startled screams pierced the green serenity, startling a nearby flock of birds into the air.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” the woman shouted, hand over her heart, thoughts spinning as she laid eyes on the first person she had seen in weeks, her eyes raking over his black hair, pulled back but strands falling out and sticking to his forehead with sweat, his arms, visibly muscular even beneath his shirt, and that shirt … which was splattered with her most recent haul. Without thinking, she lunged forward, slim fingers pushing through the water-soaked dirt that remained on his chest, searching for any glimmer that she might’ve lost.

“Whoa, now, missy,” Kieran said, hands flying to her wrists, lifting them off of his chest, letting go when she wriggled out of his grasp and stepped back, panting. Now that he could get a good look at her, he froze, breath catching in his throat. Beneath her hat, her hair was tied back into a stripe of crimson, her jaw set as she stared at him, but it was her eyes that gave him pause, that captivated him.

And before he could think, before he could bite his words back, he laughed and said, “Well now, when I came to this stream to find gold, I wasn’t expecting to find it in the eyes of a lady such as yourself.”

A beat of silence passed between them, and those words hit Kieran’s ears, his blood running cold at the realization of what he said, and before he could apologize for the fool his mouth had made of himself, her hands were back on his chest, slamming into him. He stumbled back, losing his balance in the soft mud of the riverbank, crashing into the cool, clear water behind him with barely enough time to suck in a lungful of air.

The stream was shallow, but that only meant his hands smacked into the rocks—it was either that or his head, which somehow avoided hitting the bottom. When he burst back above the surface, coughing and shaking the water from his eyes, the woman had a pistol pointed at him, looming over him at the edge of the water.

“I’ve been panning this stream for weeks now. I suggest you go back to wherever you came from and don’t return. Find your own river,” she said, voice edged.

Kieran raised his hands before pushing himself back up, grimacing at his soaked bag. Before addressing her, he opened it, sifting frantically until he found the bundle of rations he had left. He already knew what they would look like, but he still groaned when he untied it to find that they were reduced to a soggy mess. Fishing his flask out, a spark of relief flickered when he saw that, at least, was still shut tight, and he twisted the cap open to take a sip of the moonshine inside, and when he looked back to her, he saw her eyes fixed on the flask.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“What’d’ya think?” he asked, shaking it, the liquid sloshing inside. “What, are you a prohibitionist too?”

She snorted. “No. Might as well be. Can’t remember the last time I had a drop of liquor out here.”

Kieran raised an eyebrow, turning thoughts over in his mind this time before speaking. “Alright. Listen. I forgive you for pushing me into the stream. I deserved that, and I apologize. Now, if I give you the rest of this, what’d’ya say about letting me stay here to pan? I’ll even go further downstream. If anything’s washing down, you’d be the first to find it. Most likely.”

Lauren narrowed her eyes at him before lowering her gun. “Let me try it first. Then I’ll decide.”

He stepped forward, and the gun was back up, aimed between his eyes. “Throw it.”

Kieran held up a hand before screwing the flask shut and tossing it to her. With one hand, she flicked it open and took a swig, not even wincing as she swallowed.

She pursed her lips before stepping back, dropping her arm. “It’s decent. Fine, you can stick around. And …” she crossed her arms as he waded out of the water, “I apologize about you losing your food. I still have some rationed from hunting and foraging.” She sighed, turning around and snatching her pan from the ground. “I suppose you can have some tonight. If you’re able to replenish it tomorrow.”

“Sure can do, miss …”

She turned around, those golden eyes flashing again. “Sinclair. You can call me Miss Sinclair.”

“You can call me Mr. White.”

Without a response, she leaned down at the stream’s edge. Kieran stood for a few moments longer, the water in his hair dripping onto his shoulders before she turned to look at him. “You go find your spot. I’ll call you for dinner.”

“Yes, Miss Sinclair. Good luck.”

She let out a huff before dipping her pan back into the stream, digging under the dirt and lifting it to the surface, letting the water wash the smaller particles of dirt and stone away.

“Right. I’ll … get on down to my spot, then,” Kieran said, clearing his throat and making his way downstream. Once he was a good number of yards away from her, he looked back, the sunlight catching her silhouette and glimmering off of the water.

_ Well. I guess I did strike some kinda gold out here, _ he thought, pulling his pan out and kneeling, dipping into the water and watching the sediment swirl around his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo..... back before I read the Moonlighters and I just saw people talking about it, I thought it was a gold rush AU. Why? Because in my brain, "prosecutors" was translated into "prospectors," and I equated "moonlighters" to "moonshine." This was probably because I've done research on both eras for stories I recently wrote, so that kind of stuff has been ~on my mind~, even though if I stopped to think about it, I would have realized that they took place decades apart, and thus it wouldn't have made much sense for an AU to take place during BOTH of those eras. 
> 
> And then I was too good at avoiding spoilers to realize I had the wrong idea until probably about a month ago, when I actually read the tags of the fic.
> 
> LONG STORY SHORT, I am now completely on the Moonlighters hype train, and this joke has stuck around long enough to manifest in an ACTUAL gold rush AU... what the Moonlighters could've been if Giggle and Char went down a completely different route.
> 
> THANK YOU BOTH FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY CLOWNERY. THANK YOU CHAR FOR THE CHAPTER TITLE, IT'S ... GOLD *ba dum tsss* AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIGGLE, ILY <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


End file.
